


mistake.jpeg

by cosmicmewtwo



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, Sexting, some vegebul but it's really not the focus here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicmewtwo/pseuds/cosmicmewtwo
Summary: Vegeta embarrasses himself over text message.





	1. mistake.jpeg

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something after watching those scenes early on in Dragon Ball Super that showed Goku using a phone-- like who could he possibly be texting with that? As usual, the drabble I started quickly spiralled out of control. 
> 
> Enjoy.

 

X

 

The phone had been Bulma’s idea, and Vegeta had hated it from day one. “Well, what if there’s an emergency and I need to get a hold of you?” she had argued, and Vegeta had rolled his eyes, pointing out that he spent most of his time at home, anyway—he wasn’t exactly difficult to reach.

But Bulma had insisted. And so he had wound up with a nightmarish device that buzzed and beeped with every irrelevant notification and message at all hours of the day. Vegeta had questioned the purpose of at least half the pre-loaded applications ( _what the hell was a Facebook?_ ), but Bulma had insisted it was the bleeding edge of communication technology—the CapsulePhone5, she called it, still in beta-testing, _anyone would kill to have this model, Vegeta!_

Vegeta had been quick to point out that his old scouter had a faster processing speed, and better voice recognition software, and most impressively, a functioning ansible. This phone thing couldn’t even read a damn power level. Bulma, of course, had politely listened to his user feedback, and then told him, over text message, to shut the hell up.

So he kept the phone.

And mostly, he ignored it. Exactly as he was ignoring it now—he had left it on the main console in the gravity room, and though he thought he might have heard it buzz a couple times during his morning workout, he paid it no attention. Likely nothing urgent, he assumed. Probably just Bulma texting him something inane, or Trunks asking for something, or, god forbid, Kakarot sending him foolish “memes.” Nothing that couldn’t wait.

It wasn’t until hours later, as he wound down from his training, that he finally acknowledged it. After powering down the gravity generator and taking a long swig from his water bottle, he grabbed the phone off the console and swiped past the lock screen. Two text messages from Bulma were waiting for his attention:

 

Vegeta cocked an eyebrow. Somehow he could vanish with Whis and Kakarot for months at a time for training, and Bulma seemed to pay it no mind—but when she was away for less than two weeks on business, that warranted a “miss you” and a crude approximation of a wink?

He quickly responded with _Everything here is fine,_ before he abandoned the phone again on the console. He turned away to grab a towel he had brought in earlier, and was just beginning to wipe the sweat off his bare neck and shoulders when the phone buzzed again. He shot a quick glance at the screen. Two more messages from Bulma:

 

Then she punctuated with a kiss emoji.

Vegeta had only begun to tap out a reply when a third message followed, this time with a photo attached. An image of Bulma grinned up at him from the screen, her eyes half-lidded, her teeth biting seductively into her lower lip. Her top was pushed up over the swell of her breasts, one hand teasing at an exposed nipple.

Now she certainly had his attention.

 _Very lewd,_ Vegeta responded.

The phone buzzed again.

 

 

Another winking face followed.

A searing heat crawled up Vegeta’s neck and burned across his cheeks. He took another deep swig from his water bottle but his mouth remained painfully dry.

 _You’re depraved,_ he replied, stubbornly trying to ignore the fact that he was already semi-hard from her photo alone.

 

Vegeta paused before tapping at the screen again. She knew what she was doing. She had issued him a challenge, and backing down simply wouldn’t do. He could either give in to her lecherous demand, or admit defeat.

Damn her cunning.

Vegeta fumbled with the phone for several moments before finding the camera. He struggled for several more moments as he glimpsed down at an unflattering reflection of himself, unsure how to switch from the forward-facing camera. He tapped experimentally at several meaningless icons until finally the angle switched, showing the tiled floor beneathhim. He swallowed dryly, and reached down the front of his shorts with one hand.

His erection sprang easily from the spandex material, and with a few rough strokes, he quickly reached his full length. With his other hand, he angled the phone downward and watched as the camera sharpened into crisp focus. The dim, red lighting of the gravity room was less than ideal, but it would have to do. He gripped the base of his cock in one hand, and grit his teeth before he hit the shutter button with his other.

It took several more embarrassing moments before he figured out how to send the damn photo, a task made no easier by the insistent, distracting throbbing of his dick. As he finally hit “send,” he wondered exactly how much Bulma got off on this kind of torment.

Several minutes passed with no reply, and Vegeta bristled at her silence. Maybe this was part of her game—some kind of humiliation kink? Or had his hasty erotic photography simply not met her standards? Yes, the lighting had been terrible, he would concede that much, but—

The phone vibrated in Vegeta’s hand. His gaze flicked down toward the screen, and he immediately felt his core liquify in horror at the message waiting for him.

 

No, he didn’t, _he couldn’t have_ —Vegeta frantically tapped back through his message history, and saw that he had never even sent the photo to Bulma, somehow he had gone back into his most recent contacts and—

Well, the evidence was right in front of him. Despite his screen brightness being set to its absolute minimum, he could feel the pixels of Kakarot’s text message searing painfully into his retinas.

_FUCK._

Vegeta’s first instinct was to vaporize the phone, then find the Capsule Corp server the photo was stored on and destroy that, too. Instead, he furiously fired off two more texts: _That was a MISTAKE_ and _DELETE THAT IMMEDIATELY_ (but in his panic failed to notice that the phone auto-corrected his desperate key-smashing so that _MISTAKE_ somehow became _MEAT STEAK)._

Goku responded with a laughing face emoji.

Forget destroying the phone, Vegeta thought. He was simply going to have to murder Kakarot instead.

He began to craft another reply, trying to ignore the way his ears rang like he had just received a blow to the head, how he could almost feel his blood plasma reaching its boiling point. _This isn’t FUNNY, that photo wasn’t intended for you,_ he responded.

 _haha yeah i kinda figured_ , was Goku’s nonchalant reply.

Vegeta didn’t have time to reply before Goku followed up with a winking emoticon. The embarrassment that knotted up Vegeta’s insides was immediately dispelled, burned away by a pure, incandescent rage.

 _FUCK YOU KAKAROT_ , he texted, and threw the phone down on the gravity console. He huffed in frustration when it didn’t shatter into a thousand pieces as he had hoped.

He turned away, dragging a hand down his face as he let out a groan. He wondered how feasible it would be to simply lie down on the tiled floor of the gravity room and die there. Anything to avoid an encounter with Goku ever again—how was he supposed to face his rival after this? Just thinking about Goku seeing him like that, having shared something so base and _perverse—_

He grabbed the phone off the console, and texted the photo to Bulma, double- and triple-checking the message before he hit send. Hopefully that would be the end of that. He had no intention exchanging anything else with her—not after he had fucked up so thoroughly.

He turned the phone off after that, and tried to ignore how stubbornly hard he still was.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Vegeta found that dragging himself out of bed seemed like an insurmountable task. His first instinct had been to pull his sheets over his head and simply cease to exist, but he eventually decided against that—he would seek out refuge in the gravity room instead, and try to work out his humiliation in the brutal crush of artificial gravity.

This time he didn’t bring his phone. He left it on his bedside table, ignoring the three missed messages from Goku that were blinking expectantly for him at the top of the screen.

When he arrived in the GR, he skipped his warm-up and immediately cranked the power to a punishing 500G. The instant pain that threatened to pull apart his tendons and shatter his joints was almost a relief, as if the pressure were enough to literally crush the embarrassment out of him.

It wasn’t, but it was a welcome distraction nonetheless.

He worked through his routine methodically. The hum of the generator and the barrages from the training bots coaxed Vegeta into a steady rhythm of leaping and dodging and blasting, his body running more on sheer muscle memory than any conscious direction. He allowed himself to slip completely into the flow of his training, focusing on nothing but his own pulse and ki, and the slowly building ache in his muscles.

He was blindsided when an unwelcome and all-too-familiar presence abruptly appeared behind him.

Vegeta’s reaction was automatic—a blast of ki burst from his palms as he spun around to face his intruder. Goku didn’t even have time to pull his fingers away from his forehead before Vegeta’s ki-blast slammed into his torso, throwing him against the GR’s central column.

Vegeta’s lips pulled back to bare his teeth.

“YOU!” he snarled, and immediately began to stalk towards Goku.

Goku had landed on the floor, and was leaning heavily against the GR console for balance as he brushed at the singed material of his gi where Vegeta had blasted him. “Wow, Vegeta, what was that for?”

" _D_ _id I give you permission to come in here?_ ” Vegeta barked at him. “Did you really think I would _want_ you here, especially after—after—”

Goku strained against the gravity as he brought himself to stand at full height. “Look, if you’re upset about yesterday—”

The last of sentence was knocked out of him as Vegeta twisted his fists into Goku’s shirt and slammed him against the room’s central column. “One more word out of your mouth, Kakarot, and I swear to— _”_

“Look, forget about it, okay?” Goku pleaded, lifting his palms up in submission. “I didn’t come here to talk about that—I deleted the photo, I promise! I just thought—we could spar? I texted you a bunch of times to ask you but you didn’t answer!”

Vegeta tightened his grip on Goku’s gi.  “Did it not occur to you that I was deliberately ignoring your messages?”

Goku reached a hand behind his head and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, yeah… but I was hoping maybe you just hadn’t seen them?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Despite the insult, Goku grinned. “Maybe. But at least I’m bright enough not to accidentally send naughty photos to people, eh?”

Vegeta immediately swung his fist at Goku’s face, but Goku blocked the punch with his palm just before it made contact.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologised, but Vegeta couldn’t ignore the way Goku's grin still tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’m just joking, I’m sorry. But hey, clearly you _do_ have some steam you need to blow off. What do you say—one quick fight and I’ll leave you alone.”

Vegeta briefly considered strangling Goku instead, but ultimately decided that his offer to spar might be more appealing. Perhaps pummelling Goku until he was purpled with bruises was closer to the type of catharsis Vegeta needed.

Finally, Vegeta released his grip on Goku.

“Fine,” he muttered, turning away. “But I’m cranking the gravity up by another hundred G’s.” He cast Goku a sidelong glare. “For punishment.”

Goku shrugged. “Fine with me.”

Vegeta keyed in the command to the console, intensifying the gravity and disabling the training bots. A computerised voice confirmed the protocol before another hundred G’s of weight pressed down on them. Vegeta grit his teeth against the pull of the gravity and he backed away from Goku, assuming a defensive stance.

Goku began to fall into a similar stance, but Vegeta noticed him hesitating, glancing around as if distracted.

“You know, the lighting in here isn’t very flattering,” Goku blurted.

Vegeta briefly faltered in his defensive pose, cocking an eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about Kakarot?”

“The weird red lighting in here,” Goku explained, gesturing around the room, “I could tell this is where you took the photo—it doesn’t do anyone any favors, you know? Maybe next time you’re doing naughty photos try the bedroom, or the bathroom maybe? I dunno, just a suggestion.”

Vegeta could feel his temples suddenly throb as every one of his blood vessels threatened to burst. Was this seriously happening? Was Kakarot _seriously_ giving him an aesthetic critique of his _fucking dick pic?_

“Oh, my _apologies_ , Kakarot,” he seethed. “I’m so sorry my photography didn’t meet your standards—did your dick not get hard enough because the lighting in here was too dim? Is that it?”

This time it was Goku who seemed taken aback. His eyes widened as he began to stammer uselessly under Vegeta’s withering glare.

“Hey, that’s not—I didn’t—”

Dim, red lighting aside, Vegeta could swear he could see Goku’s cheeks flushing. Vegeta felt sickly pleased by his reaction.

“No need to protest, Kakarot. Next time I send private photos to my wife, I’ll make sure to run them by you first, since you’re the expert apparently!”

“Vegeta—” Goku choked.

Goku’s embarrassment spurred Vegeta—it felt good to have taken back the upper hand, to have transferred his own humiliation back to Goku. Vegeta wanted nothing more than to really lay into him, keep going until Goku was squirming in discomfort before him— _no need to worry, Kakarot,_ he wanted to go on, _next time I’ll send you a high definition panorama of my fucking cock so you can see every detail of every vein, every glistening pixel of—_

Vegeta stopped himself in mid thought, ignoring how he was quickly burning up with rage and spite and something else entirely.

“Never mind, Kakarot,” he finally hissed. A crackling aura snapped into existence around him as his eyes began to flash an icy blue. “Are you going to fight me, or not?”

Vegeta watched as Goku swallowed, but didn’t avert Vegeta’s gaze. He followed Vegeta’s lead, and quickly ascended into the first Super Saiyan form.

Vegeta threw the first punch.

 


	2. want.txt

"Are you feeling okay, Goku? You didn’t finish your second helping of breakfast.”

Chi-Chi’s voice caught Goku off-guard. He hadn’t even realized his mind had been wandering.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, guess not,” he mumbled, glancing briefly at his half-empty plate. “Just tired, I guess. Didn’t sleep great last night.”

Goku leaned back in his kitchen chair as his fingers mindlessly played over the surface of his phone, spinning it in circles on the kitchen table. He watched the device as if he expected it to vibrate with a new notification at any moment. But, it remained still.

Chi-Chi leaned over his shoulder to pick up his plate. “You weren’t up late playing on that phone, were you?” she teased. “Seems like you’ve been using it a lot lately.”

“Yeah, it’s been great ever since Gohan showed me how use it,” Goku said. “It makes it easier to keep in touch with everyone—see what everybody’s been up to, you know?”

 _And accidentally see pictures you weren’t meant to,_ he neglected to add.

Chi-Chi nodded in mild interest, humming as she collected the plates and turned away to the sink. Goku’s attention was immediately drawn back to the phone, and he continued to fidget nervously with it. He hadn’t told Chi-Chi, or anyone, about Vegeta’s blunder. Of course he had deleted the photo, just as Vegeta asked, and of course he would never betray Vegeta’s trust by telling anyone about it.

The problem was admitting to himself the other reason he hadn’t told anyone.

He could feel his face burning just thinking about it. Surely it wasn’t his fault—he couldn’t be expected to control how his body had reacted to the picture, right? He had tried to blame his arousal on shock, on sheer reflex, and nothing more. It wasn’t anything that a cold shower hadn’t been able to correct, after all.

But he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. And if he were being really honest with himself, maybe it wasn’t the first time he had had confusing thoughts about Vegeta—thoughts that were, well—

“Hey Chi, I’m gonna go outside for a bit,” Goku said, standing up from the table. His voice sounded hoarse, even to himself, as if something were clamping down on his throat.

Chi-Chi murmured something in response, but Goku had already grabbed his phone off the table and disappeared out the back door. The cool morning air felt like a relief the moment he stepped outside, and he sucked down a deep breath as if he had been suffocating.

He took a few moments to catch his breath before he swiped past the lock screen on his phone and began to compulsively tap out a message:  _hey vegeta wanna meet up for a spar??_

Vegeta didn’t answer immediately. Vegeta was always slow to answer, if he answered at all, and Goku worried that Vegeta was still ignoring his texts. But he didn’t want to use Instant Transmission to interrupt him again—in retrospect, he wondered if doing that the day before had crossed a line. Hadn’t he unintentionally disrupted Vegeta’s privacy enough?

So he waited.

Several minutes passed. Goku closed his eyes, trying to focus his senses back on what was around him—he listened to the clinking noises of Chi Chi finishing up the dishes inside, to the trilling of a distant cicada and the gurgling of Paozu river. He tried to ignore the quiet, heavy weight of the phone in his hand as it refused to vibrate.

Well, so much for the spar, then. Maybe he could find Goten, surely some training with him would—

The phone buzzed. Goku nearly jumped out of his skin, pulling the phone up and fumbling past the lock screen. A message glowed up at him from the screen.

Goku didn’t bother to reply, having already raised two fingers to his forehead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days passed uneventfully, and things seemed to fall into a cautious routine. Goku would wake up, eat breakfast, text Vegeta. Set up a time and place for a spar. Goku was surprised at Vegeta’s willingness to continue sparring, but he didn’t dare question it. He behaved himself and avoided making any reference to Vegeta’s photo incident, and gradually, Vegeta’s anger seemed to subside and vanish entirely.

Goku tried to forget all about it. He tried to block all memory of the photo from his mind, and for the most part he was successful. But then Vegeta would do something seemingly insignificant—pin Goku to the ground just a little too hard, or graze his skin for a moment too long, or worst of all, shrug out of his battlesuit at the end of the fight—and Goku would be left reeling all over again.

It culminated into one particularly distressing evening when Goku found himself pacing in his yard, too agitated for the meditation exercise he had gone outside to distract himself with. How could he begin to find his centre when one intrusive thought after another kept crowding into his mind? He briefly tried to track down Piccolo’s ki—Piccolo had always been better at meditation, maybe he could offer Goku some guidance, maybe there was a way out of this—

Goku felt a buzzing in his pocket.

He stopped his pacing immediately and reached for his phone, but hesitated before pulling it out of his pocket. He should have turned it off—or left it inside completely. But instead it weighed like a stone in his hand, tormenting him with an unseen notification. Maybe he shouldn’t even look at it. Or maybe it was just Krillin, or Gohan, or a reminder to update some app he’d forgotten about.

Goku’s thumb swiped across the lock screen before he could change his mind.

 

 

Goku’s hands almost shook as he quickly texted back, _yeah i’m here  
_

 

_what ??_ Goku replied. _what kind of expertise_

 

Goku raised an eyebrow. For what reason could Vegeta possibly be sharing this information with him?

 _Oh??_ He texted back, and then, _haha yeah i guess that sounds like bulma lol_

 

_ _

 

Goku’s mouth went dry. He felt his mind spin through several cycles of embarrassment and discomfort before finally settling on bafflement.

 _hahaha,_ Goku replied, although this didn’t seem like Vegeta’s usual sense of humor. His mind continued to whirl as he sent an emoticon with its tongue sticking out.

 

 

Goku chewed on his lip as he struggled to form a reply. He didn’t get the chance to before his phone buzzed again. Vegeta had sent a photo.

Specifically, a mirror selfie. Vegeta was standing in front a still steamy bathroom mirror, one hand holding his phone, the other holding a towel that hung low on his hips. He was completely nude otherwise, and judging by the dewy sheen of his skin, he had just stepped out of the shower.

Goku felt his face burning with a heat that bordered on painful. _l_ _ookin good,_ he texted back, and awkwardly followed up with a thumbs up emoji. He spent several moments looking over the photo again, his gaze following the lines of Vegeta’s muscles, skimming down the ridges of his abs until they ended in a deep v-cut that vanished behind his towel. A few droplets of water clung to his skin, glimmering brightly against his bronzed skin. Goku wasn’t lying—he did look good. He looked _really_ good.

 _the lighting’s way better than last time lol,_ Goku  offered after several moments without a reply from Vegeta. Goku immediately shook his head—what kind of comment was that? Of all the things to comment on— _nice lighting._ Wow. Smooth. But then what else could Vegeta possibly be expecting him to say?

Then finally, Vegeta replied:

 

Goku reached for the back of his neck, as if rubbing the skin there might relieve the prickling heat that continued to burn through him.

 _are u making fun of me?_ He fired back. It was so like Vegeta to continue to torment him like this for that one impulsive comment he had made back in the GR. Goku cursed his inability to think before he blurted whatever foolish thought came to mind.

The phone buzzed again.

Even Goku could pick up on that sarcasm. He deliberated for several moments over how to reply, typing out and then quickly deleting multiple responses. He considered just turning off the phone, pocketing it, and going back inside—but something pulled at him insistently. Almost like he was itching for a fight.

Without thinking, he put two fingers to his forehead. He didn’t even have to search out Vegeta’s ki—it was already burning at the forefront of his mind, outshining every rational thought.

Space dissolved around Goku, and reformed around him in the form of a dark, unfamiliar room. Large windows overlooked West City, and the blinking city lights dimly illuminated the room through the glass—Goku took note of the large bed, the chairs by the window, and determined he must be in Bulma and Vegeta’s bedroom.

Goku heard a door open behind him, and turned to see Vegeta stepping out of the en suite bathroom. He still remained clad in nothing but his towel, and was still holding onto his phone.

“Really, Kakarot?” Vegeta sighed. “I’m not sure if this is incredibly bold of you or just unspeakably rude.”

“What are you playing at?” Goku blurted.

“Excuse me?”

“Your… your text messages,” Goku said, and hoped desperately that Vegeta couldn’t see him blushing in the faint light. “Are you trying to taunt me, or—? What are you doing, Vegeta?”

Vegeta only smirked.

“Well I seem to have struck a nerve, haven’t I?"

Goku opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t piece together a single coherent thought. He immediately regretted his decision to come here. What was he thinking, teleporting into Vegeta’s bedroom, of all places? It had been foolish, impulsive, and—Vegeta was right, _rude—_ and he didn’t understand why Vegeta wasn’t trying to kill him for it. Instead he seemed almost—smug?

Vegeta dropped his phone onto the bed and stepped toward Goku, still smirking, and Goku quickly looked away from him, trying to look anywhere in the room except at Vegeta. It was a lot different seeing him in the flesh like this and not just in a seamy photo, and Goku tried not to focus on how his body was reacting.

“Are you _embarrassed,_ Kakarot?”

Vegeta was nearly toe to toe with him now. Goku tried to move away from him, but found his back up against the window.

“No,” said Goku, forcing an unnatural firmness into his voice. “Why would I be embarrassed? I’m not the one sending photos—”

“You liked them,” Vegeta accused, and something on Goku’s face must have given him away, because Vegeta barked an incredulous laugh. “Oh, I cannot _believe_ I was right about this.”

Goku considered teleporting away that instant, but his mind was racing too wildly to focus.

“No—I didn’t—” he began to protest, “I didn’t even keep the photos! I deleted everything you sent me—”

“So you came here to see the real thing instead.”

Vegeta leaned against the window with one hand, caging Goku in. He was so close now, and Goku had to push back the sudden impulse to touch him—he was close enough that Goku could feel the heat radiating off him, could feel his mind clouding with his scent, and every part of Goku wanted to pull him in and—

“I just wanted to see you,” Goku said, forcing himself to meet Vegeta’s gaze, and Vegeta grinned back at him. “Maybe we could—fight?” Goku couldn’t figure out what to do next, but maybe punching him would be a reasonable idea. If nothing else it might knock the pleased smirk off Vegeta's face.

Vegeta leaned in closer. “You’re not here to fight.”

Goku’s hands went up instinctively, pushing against Vegeta’s chest to stop him from coming any closer. But the contact had the opposite effect and suddenly Vegeta was in his face and Goku felt his hands slacken against Vegeta’s body, his fingers trailing down Vegeta’s torso. His skin was hot to the touch, still damp from the shower.

Vegeta tilted his head, and his mouth came close enough to Goku’s ear that he could almost feel his lips graze him. “So what are you here for, Kakarot?”

Vegeta’s voice was hot and coarse, and Goku felt like he was suffocating. Without thinking, he reacted to the first impulse that seized him—reaching down, his hands grabbed sharply for Vegeta’s towel.

Vegeta’s hand was at Goku’s neck before he could pull the offending material away, and Goku’s head slapped against the glass as Vegeta squeezed his fist against his throat.

Vegeta bared his teeth in a wolfish smile. “ _Now_ you’re being honest.”

Goku grabbed Vegeta’s wrist to pull his hand away—he struggled to breathe against the pressure, but worse, he felt himself _enjoying_ the sensation of Vegeta’s fingers digging into his skin. His heart began to race within his chest and his skin seared where Vegeta touched him, his body spiralling into some twisted fight-or-flight mode, preparing for a threat he couldn’t anticipate.

Vegeta’s fingers began to loosen, and his hand settled at the base of Goku’s throat. His eyes flicked downward for a brief moment before rising again to meet Goku’s gaze. His grin widened.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not already hard,” he taunted. “I can tell from here—”

Goku finally pulled Vegeta’s hand away and lunged forward, clumsily covering Vegeta’s mouth with his own. Vegeta grunted against his lips, clearly as shocked by the impulsive move as Goku was.

Somewhere in Goku’s mind, some distant voice of reason howled for attention— _what are you doing? What the hell are you_ doing _?_ —but Goku ignored it. He brought his palms to the side of Vegeta’s face, as if clutching to him might keep him tethered to his quickly dissolving sense of reality. _What are you doing?_

Goku felt Vegeta’s hand snake up the back of his neck and sink into his hair. Goku gasped as Vegeta yanked backward on his hair, pulling their mouths apart.

“Vegeta—” Goku panted, his voice cracking as Vegeta curled his fist tighter in Goku's hair.

“Your audacity this evening is unprecedented, Kakarot,” Vegeta said, his voice a breathless hiss. “Truly, it is. But perhaps your boldness deserves a reward.”

Vegeta let go of him and stepped back. In one swift motion, he grabbed the towel at his waist and pulled it off, flinging it aside. Goku swallowed as he took in the sight of Vegeta, now completely nude before him, powerless to stop himself from looking immediately at Vegeta’s semi-hard cock.

Goku’s first, blasphemous thought was that the photo hadn’t done it justice.

Before Goku could react, Vegeta grabbed the front of his gi and pulled. Goku stumbled forward as Vegeta dragged him towards the bed.

Vegeta sat down on the edge of the mattress, not letting go of Goku’s shirt. Instead, he pulled down, forcing Goku to lean toward him and Vegeta crushed their mouths together. Vegeta’s tongue quickly found its way past Goku’s lips, and Goku let out a muffled groan at the sensation.

Just as abruptly as Vegeta had kissed him, he pulled their mouths apart, and Goku felt Vegeta’s hands pressing down on his shoulders.

“On your knees,” Vegeta growled, and Goku obeyed the order without thinking, kneeling on the floor in between Vegeta’s spread legs.

Goku watched as Vegeta began to stroke himself with one hand, his dick quickly hardening to its full length. Goku tried to ignore his own aching hardness straining against his pants, and quickly licked his tongue across his lips.

Vegeta reached behind Goku’s head, tangling his hand in Goku’s hair again, albeit gentler this time.

“Open your mouth,” Vegeta ordered, and Goku wondered if this was something that Vegeta had thought about before, too—maybe this is what he had been envisioning all along every time he spoke of Goku kneeling like a proper subject to his prince. Goku, despite whatever other feelings clouded his mind, found himself suddenly desperate to oblige, and opened his mouth for Vegeta.

Vegeta used his other hand to cup Goku’s jaw, and he ran his thumb across Goku’s wet, lower lip. Goku’s mouth trembled at the touch, and Vegeta seemed satisfied with his response, pulling his hand away—slowly, he began to press the tip of his cock against Goku’s lips instead.

Goku instinctively flicked his tongue against Vegeta’s tip, tasting the fluid leaking from his slit. Goku wrapped a hand around the base Vegeta’s shaft, unsure what to do next—after a moment’s pause, he opted to slowly drag the flat of his tongue along the underside of Vegeta’s cock. Vegeta immediately bit down on his lip, tightening his hold in Goku’s hair, and Goku took Vegeta’s reaction to mean he was doing something right.

Goku’s tongue teased again at Vegeta’s tip before finally taking the head into his mouth. Goku slid his mouth slowly down Vegeta’s length, stopping when his mouth met the top of his fist. He could feel Vegeta beginning to breach the back of his throat, and Goku savoured the taste of him, the thickness of him filling his mouth, and Goku moaned deeply around the girth of his cock. Vegeta hissed in pleasure, and Goku loved the sound of it, moaning again as he began to slide his mouth upward.

He sucked hard on the head before dipping back down, his hand pumping Vegeta’s shaft as his mouth eased into a slow rhythm, bobbing up and down. Vegeta growled and jerked his hips upward, forcing himself deeper into Goku’s mouth. Goku felt himself gagging, nearly choking as Vegeta pushed down on Goku’s head. Goku sputtered around Vegeta’s cock as it filled his throat, and he only wished he could swallow him deeper. Goku couldn’t deny how much he was enjoying this, and was forced to admit to himself that this might have been what he had wanted the moment Vegeta had sent him that first photo so many days ago.

But just as Goku began to increase his pace, he felt Vegeta’s hand jerk back on his hair, pulling his head back. Goku’s throat felt raw as Vegeta pulled himself out of Goku’s mouth, and Goku grit his teeth at the feeling of Vegeta pulling sharply at his hair.

“You’re better at this than I anticipated,” Vegeta said, and Goku was pleased at how breathless he sounded.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Goku shot back. Though his mouth had been pulled away from Vegeta’s cock, he continued to pump Vegeta’s length with his hand, enjoying how Vegeta hissed as he rubbed his thumb against the tip.

Vegeta loosened his hold on Goku’s hair, and teasingly brushed the head of his dick against Goku’s lips. Goku responded by pressing a soft kiss against his skin.

“This is a good look for you, Kakarot,” Vegeta chuckled, a low, dark sound that rumbled from his chest and somehow made Goku’s dick ache even harder. “But you could look better.”

Vegeta’s hand grabbed the front of his gi, and Goku didn't have time to react before Vegeta pulled him off the floor and onto the bed. Goku grunted as Vegeta’s weight straddled his legs, and before Goku could stop him, Vegeta’s hands were pulling his shirt off, nearly tearing the material apart. Vegeta’s hands ran down Goku’s sides, and Goku felt his skin almost tingling where Vegeta’s fingers dragged across his body.

Goku bit down hard on his lip to suppress a moan as Vegeta’s leaned over him, mouth meeting Goku’s throat, teeth softly bruising Goku’s skin. Goku felt almost embarrassed at the way his body shuddered for Vegeta, and he threw an arm over his eyes to avoid having to meet Vegeta’s gaze. He could only feel grateful that Vegeta had left the lights off—maybe in the darkness, Vegeta couldn’t tell how hot and red Goku’s face was flushing.

But Vegeta noticed what Goku was doing and sharply pulled Goku’s arm away, snarling as he pressed his mouth to Goku’s lips.

“V-Vegeta,” Goku panted, pulling himself away from the kiss. “Kami, Vegeta, this is—this is a lot—”

Goku choked as Vegeta began to palm him through the front of his pants, his hand rubbing the outline of Goku’s cock where it strained against the material.

“Oh?” Vegeta growled, his fingers circling the wet spot where Goku's cock was leaking for him. “Am I _too much_ for you, Kakarot?”

Goku’s breath stuttered in his throat. “No—I just—”

Vegeta’s hand slipped beneath Goku’s waistband, and his fingers wrapped around the base of Goku’s cock. Goku gasped at the touch, and couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into Vegeta’s grip. He had been aching for too long, and he was desperate for any small relief the friction could give him. Vegeta indulged him by squeezing him harder, and Goku allowed himself to moan at the small mercy.

But then Vegeta let go.

The sudden loss of his touch felt almost painful. “Vegeta,” Goku pleaded, and was embarrassed by the whining pitch of his voice.

“Oh? Do you enjoy that, Kakarot?”

Goku grit his teeth. “ _Yes._ ”

Vegeta’s smirk was infuriating. “I thought so.”

Goku opened his mouth to argue, to beg him to stop toying with him, but Vegeta had already gone to work pulling his pants off. Goku followed his lead, kicking his boots off as Vegeta tore off the bottom of his gi and threw it to the floor.

Goku lay back on the bed, expecting Vegeta to rejoin him—instead, he felt Vegeta’s hands grabbing roughly at his body, and suddenly Goku was flipped onto his stomach.

“Hey,” Goku grunted, and glimpsed over his shoulder to see Vegeta reaching for something on the bedside table before lining up behind him. “What are you—”

Goku’s words were cut off when he felt one of Vegeta's hands grip his waist, then slide down to cup one of his cheeks, spreading them apart. Something hard rubbed between them, and Goku’s cock throbbed at the sound of Vegeta’s pleased groan. Goku’s fingers curled into the bedsheets as he widened his legs, welcoming Vegeta closer.

Vegeta pulled away again, and Goku listened as Vegeta popped open a bottle and rubbed something into his hands. Goku turned his head again and opened his mouth to ask exactly what he was doing, but the feeling of something slick pressing suddenly at his entrance forced a sharp cry from his chest. Slowly, two of Vegeta’s fingers slid into him, and Goku’s voice cracked into a shaking groan, his fists knotting tighter into the sheets. He bucked his hips back against Vegeta’s hand, but Vegeta responded by pushing him back harder into the mattress.

“Gods, Kakarot,” Vegeta taunted, thrusting his fingers in, then out, with a cruel, deliberate slowness. “You’d think no one had ever touched you before.”

 _Not like this_ Goku thought, and nearly sobbed as Vegeta’s fingers pressed into some exquisitely sensitive spot at  his core.

Vegeta leaned over Goku’s back, his mouth brushing against Goku’s ear as his quickened the pace of his fingers. Vegeta half-kissed, half-whispered something into Goku’s ear, but Goku’s mind was reeling too hard to focus on his words. All thought focused on nothing but a single, blistering want _._

“Vegeta,” he begged. “P-please—”

“Don’t beg, Kakarot, it’s unbecoming,” Vegeta chuckled in his ear. “But I promise I’ll give you exactly what you came here for.”

Vegeta pulled away from him, and Goku winced as Vegeta pulled his fingers out. Vegeta shifted behind him, and Goku felt Vegeta’s hand dig into his hip as something hard and thick pressed against his entrance. Goku’s hand knotted into the bedsheets as he braced himself, and after a moment of resistance, Vegeta was suddenly inside him

Vegeta uttered a low groan behind him, and Goku bit back a pained cry—he felt hot, full to bursting, and even just the tip of Vegeta’s cock felt impossibly huge inside him. As Vegeta slowly rocked into him, easing himself in by every tight, squeezing inch, Goku’s hands grasped the sheets so tightly that the threads threatened to fray apart.

“ _Fuck_ , Kakarot,” Vegeta hissed, his fingers bruising into Goku’s hips as he pushed into him. Finally, with one last, desperate thrust, he filled Goku to the hilt.

Goku cried out, burying his face in a pillow, trying to muffle his own voice. He bit down on the material as Vegeta worked himself into a hard, slow pace, each jerk of Vegeta’s hips forcing a smothered moan from him.

But suddenly one of Vegeta’s hands was grabbing his hair, forcing his head back. Goku was left with nowhere to hide, and his whining, needing moans spilled readily from his throat, clear and unmuffled.

“ _Vegeta_ ,” he panted, and he wanted to beg him to go harder, faster, the same way he’d egg him on in battle to throw a harder punch, or fire a hotter ki-blast. But this somehow felt far headier than any of their spars, even though Goku’s body ached and throbbed for it the same way.

Vegeta’s pace soon became relentless, and he fucked Goku into the mattress hard enough that Goku struggled to catch his breath. Vegeta’s fist pulled tighter on Goku’s hair with each thrust, and Goku’s eyes and mouth watered at the blissful pain of it. He didn’t know how much longer he could last like this—he felt like he was about to burn up completely beneath Vegeta, his hands knotting so hard into the bedsheets that his knuckles ached from it—

Then Vegeta was suddenly pulling back on him, lifting Goku’s hips from the mattress just enough so that he could curl his hand under Goku’s stomach and wrap his fist around Goku’s throbbing cock. Goku was embarrassed how quickly it unravelled him—in only a few moments he was spurting past Vegeta’s hand, ropes of cum splattering his stomach and the sheets below him. Vegeta thrust into him as deeply as Goku’s body would allow, and Goku cried out as Vegeta finished inside him with a sharp groan, Goku still riding out the last pulses of his own orgasm.

It was several moments before Vegeta pulled out of him, and rolled over to collapse on the other side of mattress. Goku brought himself to his hands and knees, his limbs still shaking.

“Oh, man,” Goku muttered, seeing the mess on the bed below him. He sheepishly wiped off his stomach with the corner of a sheet that had been ripped off the bed entirely, figuring the damage was already done. “Bulma’s gonna be so mad if she sees what I did to her sheets.”

Vegeta snorted beside him. “She might be angrier about you fucking her husband.”

Goku’s eyes widened. “Oh, Kami, she’s gonna kill us—I’m so stupid!”

Goku looked to Vegeta for some kind of reassurance, but was mildly offended to see that Vegeta was casually scrolling through his phone, seemingly unperturbed.

“Oh, quit panicking, Kakarot,” Vegeta said, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure she’ll understand.” He smirked, and held up his phone, adding, “especially if I send her a picture.”

Goku’s jaw dropped as Vegeta’s phone flashed, photographing him in all his naked glory, skin still dewy with sweat, his hair dishevelled and tangled from Vegeta’s treatment of it.

“No!” Goku screamed, lunging for Vegeta, and scrambled to grab Vegeta’s phone as Vegeta held it stubbornly out of his reach. “Vegeta, don’t you dare—”

“Oh, _fine,_ ” said Vegeta, heaving a sarcastic sigh as he placed his phone back on the bedside table. “I promise I’ll keep it in my private collection.”

Goku leaned over him, pouting. “Pervert,” he taunted.

“Hn. You’re one to talk.”

Goku trailed a finger down Vegeta’s chest, earning a scowl from Vegeta. “Well, it’s only fair if I get a photo of you, too.”

“What, you don’t have enough already?”

“Not of us together.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “ _Fine._ ”

Goku smiled, and Vegeta grumbled underneath him as Goku kissed him on the lips.


End file.
